


Masque

by TheNobodyofaSOLDIER



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Alternate Universe, Artist Character, Depression, Drunk Texting, Dubious Content, F/M, Flirting, Forbidden Love, Ghosts, Ghoul Cannibalism (Tokyo Ghoul), Ghoul Sex, Ghouls, Grief, Implied Sexual Content, Insomnia, Mental Instability, Nurse Character, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rough Sex, Seduction, Suicidal Thoughts, Teasing, Unrequited Love, incubus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:53:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 15,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29935785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNobodyofaSOLDIER/pseuds/TheNobodyofaSOLDIER
Summary: One shots for the series "Tokyo Ghoul!"
Relationships: Amon Koutarou/Reader, Arima Kishou/Reader, Kaneki Ken | Sasaki Haise/Reader, Naki (Tokyo Ghoul)/Reader, Suzuya Juuzou/Reader, Tsukiyama Shuu/Reader, Uta (Tokyo Ghoul)/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	1. Artist's Eye

[Uta x Artist!Reader]

_”I know my pulse races whenever I get a human customer._

_I can’t explain it._

_There’s just...something thrilling about it.”_

And so he senses with you, that strange, little quickening of his pulse as he catches your scent upon entry. Dressed so simply with little adorning your features, you walk amongst your humankind as if draped in invisibility. You speak little. Your gaze locks with the ground. A little sketchbook and pencil remains tucked beneath your arm, ready to access should something catch your eye.

It was just by chance that you stumbled into his shop; and not just an ordinary emporium, but a magnet for ghouls of all types - including Uta, the owner himself.

Despite that eminent danger, you found yourself returning to that quaint spot over and over.

Truth be told, you could not ignore the thrill surging through you.

He likes that you fancy his shop so, that your creativity flows with such ease in his presence. You like that he encourages your work, that he dispenses his advice often enough for you to improve. Neither one of you are required to speak of your identities; it is more than obvious to the both of you which is ghoul and which is human.

Yet, you have created the perfect, symbiotic relationship, causing all other to pale in comparison.

You bring him fresh coffee, brewed and prepared to his liking. He provides snacks, suiting both of your needs and tastes. Conversations are always light and pleasant, and you always leave behind appropriate tips for his company and permission to stay in his workplace as long as you do.

“You should at least let me pay you,” you always say. “I always seem to take up your room and time when I’m here.”

And every time, he would reply,

“It’s on me. From one artist to another.”

Never did you feel so free to express yourself creatively than you did with him.

Alas, one can only ignore the elephant in the room for so long.

He always dulls his hunger with various snacks and loads of coffee when you are around. Having grown a bit of a soft spot for you, his little, artist friend, he shudders at the thought of harming you in any way, shape or form. But, at the same time, he cannot deny the watering in his mouth occasionally torturing him every now and then as you sit with him. He falls under the control of your scent, so sweet, bitter but completely intoxicating. His logical side warns him against continuing these meetings

But, each time you bid him farewell with a warm smile and twinkling eyes, he loses every bit of strength to deny you.

He decides to leave it up to fate. Whether it ends in tragedy or happiness, he would wash his hands of it.

You both knew what you were signing up for, so the consequences would fall accordingly.

You seem far more enthralled with your work. Your neck bent, your hand hastily scratching at your book, you barely communicate beyond the basic “yes,” “no,” or maybe nothing more than a grunt. You randomly glance in his direction for a second or two before immediately returning to your piece. Cheek resting into his hand, he watches you with curious eyes. He follows the curve of your spine, the length of your arms, your nimble fingers clutching your tools of invention, your hair framing your face as you hover. His own artist’s eye cannot deny your aesthetic appeal - just another way to become all the more enticing. He so wishes to internally strangle himself for such...disgusting thoughts of you. He truly thinks of you as a cherished companion, so to reduce you to a meal is nothing short of wicked.

All the same, instincts are a powerful component, both to human and ghoul.

Swallowing the hard lump forming in his throat, he rises from his seat, swaggering over to you. Though the shuffle of his shoes prove rather loud, you look up not once. He takes advantage of your focus and creeps behind you in hopes to catch a glimpse of your masterpiece in the making. He leans in just a little. Then, his eyes widens at the image before him: an exact depiction of him.

Every line, every stroke possess such precision and elegance. You adorn the page with various patterns and designs very reminiscent of his own designs. If he had to choose one thing those so accurately represented him, he would pick this piece of art, all made with pencils.

For a minute, his breath catches in his throat.

Sensing his presence behind you, a heat spreads across your cheeks. Your hand begins to shake ever so faintly as you continue. He sees your lines becoming a little ragged, so he turns to you and says,

“Impressive.”

You swallow and lick dried lips.

“Oh!” you reply with feigned surprise. “Thank you! I am very detailed oriented, so I’m pretty sure that’s all it is.”

He could almost taste you on his tongue just from inhaling your aroma repeatedly. He released a silent but trembling breath.

“I assure you,’ he continues. “ You have an artist’s eye. You should be proud.”

You allow his words to sink in. You scan your work. You brush the little specks of led and shavings left behind. A swell of pride builds up in your chest.

“Well, thank you.”

Suddenly, you sense a soft, feathery yet tingling sensation run along your neck. Slow and rhythmic, the air you realize comes from his nose, barely touching your skin. Immediately, a shiver jolts down your spine. Your breath catches. Your muscles clench. You cannot pin point whether this is fear or excitement, as you notice hints of both melding together.

Was this it? you wondered. Was this the end for you? Would he finally give into his basic needs as a ghoul?

He touches your shoulders, firmly but gently. You sense cold lips meet with the skin below your ear. Slowly, deliberately, he draws in your fragrance.

To a human, all one would smell is little to nothing, of coursed, based on the person.

But, to a hungry ghoul, the iron, the salt, the blood and juice running through toughened vessels, fat, and muscles, is far more tempting and mouth-watering than any steak or hamburger produced by humans.

Sweet, salty, perhaps a hint of bitterness, a whiff of your flowery perfume.

Yes, he could easily picture himself pinning you to the floor, tearing away at your flesh bit by bit until nothing remained. His tongue pushes between his lips, circling over the skin. He smirks a bit as he feels you shiver at his touch.

If he thinks the smell is intoxicating, your taste is to die for. His senses become heightened. His heart pounds. The hunger rages, clawing, desperately attempting to break free, just that he might sink his teeth into your delicious, enticing flesh.

His lips encircle that patch of flesh, softening it, reddening it, swirling his tongue about and tasting what he can without breaking the skin. Your fist curl against your sketch book. Much to his surprise as well as your own, you lean into him as if begging for more

And he cannot help but smile with confidence at this reaction.

Suddenly, the lust for blood melts away, and he releases you, a wet pop resounding in your ear.

The fear dissipates, and you can only focus on the warmth and pleasure remaining.

“Hm,” he hums against your ear. “I’m hungry.”

“Mm? Wanna grab a snack then?”

Releasing you from his grip, he turns the stool around, allowing you to gaze into his mysterious, crimson eyes.

You two are walking on eggshell’s in this relationship,

but that makes it all the more thriller.

“Yeah,” he replies, playfully tapping your nose. “sounds good.”


	2. Reve

[Incubus!Kaneki x Insomniac!Reader] AU

Ropes burn and chafe wrists tied down.

Limbs, heavy, weigh into frigid sheets.

Cuts, scrapes, bruises of all colors and sizes adorn every plane of your body.

Yet, you feel no pain.

In fact, you feel nothing.

Darkness embraces you, filling your eyes, swollen and red from sleepless nights. 

A slim, ghostly figure stands at the edge of your bed, a single, crimson eye radiating in the blackness. 

_”Huh...I am having that dream again...,”_ you ponder, as your eyes glaze over. 

Such horrible dreams prevent you from needed slumber; visages of a creature, a man with hair as pristine as the snow and as pale as the glow of the moon, settling into your room. He speaks little, save for words of desire. Before you process his actions, he captures you beneath him, taking your breath with passionate kisses. Marks indent the secret contours of your skin. So real are the tingling sensations, you jolt from these dreams, back into reality.

Yet, pretty, little lines of purple and red decorate your skin, just as the dream depicted. 

You wonder if indeed your sanity is dwindling...

As you hope these dreams will fade with time, they increase in quantity, increase in intensity. You fail to recognize the etherial being, wandering through the corridors of your subconscious. He bares little to no resemblance of people you see in every day life. You fear speaking of this to anyone. You fear letting your secret slide, and someone admitting you into an asylum of sorts. 

Damn, how much you longed for sleep, be it a few minutes, an hour, any moment you could close your eyes and revitalize lost energy. Your strength ebbed away. Your will crumbled. 

The longer time etches on, the long the dreams’ duration. 

He comes again and again. He whispers illicit wants, triggering a flush to your cheeks. Skilled, nimble fingers investigate intimate places on your body you keep hidden from the world. He drowns you in such fervent pleasure, stars appear before your eyes. 

But, a strange fear lurks within the walls of these halls.

He pins you to your bed, tying you down. He leaves behind such bright wounds, the vibrancy of the blood burns your retina. He sinks his teeth deep into your flesh, tearing it away a bit at a time, as a carnivorous beast to his meal.

And you awaken with marks and scars to prove his conquest in those places...

Still, a bizarre, twisted pleasure drenches this fear, one that worries you. As days progress, the boring and mundane routine of life, these images haunt you. Your body trembles at the thought of his hot breath against your ear, of his oddly soft and soothing voice luring you into his arms, into the heat of his kisses. 

And so, you crawl into bed once more, wondering when he arrives again...willing to surrender yourself to him once more.

He slinks towards you, eyes glazed with lust, pale body splattered with blood. In the midst of his breathing you hear a familiar sound, one that sends chills down your spine.

A pulse; the rhythm of a heart...

You blink away the salted moisture from your eyes, and sure enough, you witness him, delicately clutching the beating organ between his pale hands. His fingertips lightly caress the lining. It quivers.

And you sense that quivering within your own chest.

Could this be...?

“Lovely, is it not?” he inquires before he slowly runs the tip of his tongue along the visceral layer.

Once again, you feel a distinct tingling in your chest. A soft whimper escapes your lips.

“You like?” he says, tilting his head. “Then, I shall indulge you.”

Much to your surprise, his teeth sink into the cardiac flesh. It beats faster. Suddenly, pain overwhelms your chest; a sharp and tight pain. Yet, a sick delight follows, the same kind you experience when he bites more sensitive places on your body. 

Surely, you could not be wishing for more...

No, no, that would be madness...

After swallowing one bite, he takes another, increasing its pulse, humming in delight at the flavors. The same sensations peel over you again, and you squirm.

Then again...

And again...

The ache nearly kills you, but the surreal image of him covering you in his marks sticks to your tired mind, as those same feelings dominate the pain. The sound of that beating heart throbs in your head. Your mouth runs dry, and you feel yourself start to spin.

When you glance at him, he licks away the blood sticking to his fingers, eyes closed as if tasting the purest nectar. Taking in the myriad of scents, he inhales slowly, releasing a trembling breath between his lips. 

And his eyes rest on you. 

Slowly, he crawls to your space. To your relief, he releases you from the captivity of the rope, leaving behind such ghastly, stinging chafing. He pins you by one shoulder, allowing his free hand to rest over the space of your heart. His stare bores into your skull. 

But, his smile still remains so gentle.

“See now,” he whispers. He urges himself closer. “Now, your heart belongs to me.”

Licking your dry, chapped lips, you swallow and mutter,

“That’s what that was?”

“Mmhmm,” his lips hover over yours, ghosting over the skin. “You’re mine now. Forever.”

Your breath hitches in your throat: _forever._

You speak no words. He only proceeds with a press of his lips into yours; soft, velvety, yet filled with a want leaving you utterly helpless to its power. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you melt into his kiss and follow him down into his madness once again.

_”Such a vivid dream...It’ll...just be simpler to surrender than resist...”_

_”Yes...It’ll be okay.”_

_”After all, it is only a dream...”_


	3. Nyctophobia

[Kaneki x Ghost!Reader] - [Kaneki’s perspective]

_”It’s okay to be afraid...”_

_”It’s okay to feel the way you do...”_

Is it really...?

Is it really okay to succumb to fear?

I perceive a soft rumble of thunder, rain pattering on the cracked glass of the window. Frigid air surrounds the empty room, and a dank, musty smell violates my nostrils. The springs of the old couch I lay across prod and poke various limbs.

But, the primary discomfort I sense, the only pain truly agonizing me dominates my chest, the rapid beating of my heart, the throbbing in my skull.

All around me melds into an engulfing blackness.

I cannot...

...think...

God, it hurts. It hurts so much.

_”A thousand...minus...”_

_”A-A thousand minus...seven..._

_is...what?”_

The throb intensifies. 

_Thump...Thump...Thump..._

I feel fist full of my hair rumpling between my fingers. I pull. I tug, the stinging spreading across my skull.

Anything to wake me up.

_”Centipedes...in my ears...”_

_Help me..._

_Oh, God...help me..._

I feel myself twisting and turning. The skin at my lower back threatens to break and tear. 

“No, not again-! I can’t-!”

I can’t control it...I can’t control myself...

Dark red sacs bubble from my back, kaguna ready to spring free.

_”A thousand minus-_

_A thousand....minus...”_

“Dark...it’s so dark...”

_”Centipedes in my ears..._

_C-Cen....tipedes.....”_

Air swells in my throat. It aches. It pulls.

I want...to scream so much. All I can do is thrash and squirm, gulping down the urge. Tears sting my eyes before they streak down the filth on my face.

“So dark...,” I hear myself whimper. “It’s so...dark...”

_”Kaneki...?”_

A voice sweeter than that of an angel’s...

A warmth across my skin...

I feel my hands fall heavy at my side. The tension ebbs away just a little.

Slowly, as if my head weighs a ton, I raise my head...

...to see you there.

Before I speak, I feel your silken palms across my cheeks, your soft, familiar eyes full of love delving deeper than the levels of the sea.

How much I’ve missed you...

 _”Kaneki...it’s okay,”_ you whisper so faintly. “ _It’s okay to feel this way._ ”

“I’m...I’m so sorry,” I reach for you, but my fingers seem to pass through a cold mist. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you, love.”

 _”I’m alright,”_ you say. Somehow, you manage to brush away those dirty tears. _”You don’t need to be afraid. I’m here, Kaneki.”_

For once, I manage to regain my ability just to breathe, and my body falls limp into the sofa.

“Don’t...don’t leave me...”

 _”I won’t._ ”

“Please,” my eyelids begin to sink, unable to bear the heaviness of fatigue any longer.

“Please, don’t leave me...”

Just as you had done, I sense your gentle fingers touch my forehead, as if rhythmically brushing away the fears haunting my dreams.

 _”I’m here, Kaneki,”_ you say as sleep embraces me in the warmth of her arms.

 _”You don’t have to be afraid of the dark..._ ”


	4. Rain, Rain, Go Away

[Haise x Reader]

_Rain..._

_Rain..._

_Go away..._

Your finger tips run along protruding, vertebral processes through delicate, placid skin. He makes no sound. He says nothing. 

Instead, you smile, and continue the treatment of the various wounds and scratches. 

"It's storming again," you say. "Seems like it does nothing but rain these days."

 _Pitter, patter..._

The droplets rattle the window pane. A quick flash, a rumble of thunder, and all goes quiet once again, except for

_pitter, patter..._

_Rain, rain..._

_Go away..._

_Come again, another day..._

He inhales, slowly, quivering, as if it takes everything he has left inside him. Long, nimble fingers slide through tresses of midnight and snow. You sense the mild tension in his muscles as you contact tender spots, varying from purple to red. With the soft, cool rag, you drag them over the heated inflammation.

"Kind of peaceful, huh?" you rip open the paper casing to a bandage, protecting the bloodied sores from micro invaders.

Not that it mattered to him at all.

Still, it is your instinct to do as such. It is at least a small way to make up for everything.

He always stays so strong. He fights, fights for justice for humans and ghouls alike. He fights for respect for coworkers and subordinates, those who take advantage of his gentle nature. 

He wages war with himself in hopes, wishing with every breath to suppress the demons within.

Shadows and monsters he longs so much to break free from...

How much it hurts you...

How could one work so hard yet receive such pain...

How could one be so kind...but hurt so much...

So much hurt...

_Broken._

"Haise."

With his eyes closed, he simply hums in reply. 

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and attempt to swallow the urge to cry. God in heaven, how your throat aches and strains just to hold it down. Pressing your cheek to the soft curve of his back, you gently wrap your arms about his waist. The hardening in his muscles ebb away, and he relaxes into your embrace. You smile. You presses soft kisses along the line of his spine before asking,

“Do you like the rain, Haise?”

He remains silent for the moment, eyes lost into another world, one you could not even begin to understand. 

_A world where it always rained..._

To be honest, he could not even imagine it any other way.

He forgot what it means for the sun to shine, what it means to gaze into the heavens and see the rays of golden break through veil of gray.

You at least provide that little glimmer he so desperately needs, and that is enough for him.

Slowly breathing, he rests his hands atop yours, intertwining his fingers with your own.

“Yes,” he says in a voice no louder than a whisper. “I like the rain...”

_Rain, rain..._

_Go away..._

_Come again, another day..._

_A little sun wants to come and play..._

_Rain, rain..._

_Go away...._


	5. Beloved

[Kaneki x Reader]

~ _How does Love speak?  
In the faint flush upon the telltale cheek,  
And in the pallor that succeeds it; by  
The quivering lid of an averted eye--  
The smile that proves the parent to a sigh  
Thus doth Love speak..._~

How strange...

Despite the unbearable weight against your body, despite sharp points burrowing into your skin, tearing, ripping away the flesh from your bones, the constricting of your lungs,

despite the throbbing, the beating of your desperate heart throughout your body,

it did not hurt.

No aching, not soreness, not even a hint of irritation.

On the contrary, you could almost say you were satisfied.

"Is that good...?"

"Do you need more?"

"That's just fine."

"Take all you need, my love."

~ _How does Love speak?  
In the wild words that uttered seem so weak  
They shrink ashamed in silence; in the fire  
Glance strikes with glance, swift flashing high and higher..._~

So much blood...

The stench of the iron melding with bodily fluids wafted through the room. The darkness thickened as more of the crimson fluid flowed from your veins. Red splatters stained locks of white, brushing across your cheeks. Blackened nails pin you to the wall, as a hunter would its prey. 

You possessed neither the strength nor the will to fight back.

Had you even, you refused to resist.

He needed this after all...

_"1000 minus 7..._

_...is what?"_

~ _Like lightnings that precede the mighty storm;  
In the deep, soulful stillness; in the warm,  
Impassioned tide that sweeps through throbbing veins..._~

You barely saw his pristine face, now hollow, pale, filthied with grime and blood. The terrifying, alien appendages cracked from the base of his back, creeping as if they possessed a mind of their own, 

like centipedes crawling in the dark.

" _Centipedes...crawling in my ears..._ "

Round your arms, your legs, your waist, these disgusting protuberances became your chains in this prison. Such strength they contained, limber, flexible, trapping you like a fly in a spider's web. Insanities rolled off his tongue. Words of madness were uttered into your ear as he pulled and tugged at your hair with the madness of a starving animal. 

Taking another mouthful of loose skin into his mouth, he ripped it away, effortlessly. 

Yet, you still felt no pain.

Despite the tempest of agonizing sensations drowning you, you felt no pain.

In fact,

you wanted this.

You loved him at his best.

It was time to love him at his worst.

Moist, heated breath engulfed the skin beneath your ear, long wheezes in between shaking inhales. Limber fingers knotted themselves between your hair. As you had done so many times before, you laced your arms around his neck, urging him closer to you

" _1000...,_ " his familiar, soft and sweet voice had been distorted into that of a demon's. _"minus 7...is what?_ "

You simply sighed, brushing the back of his hair with your palm, slowly.

"That's it," you breathed. "Let it out, love."

" _Centipedes...crawling in my ears..._ "

"It's okay," you stretched your already bruised neck out to him. "Take it. Take all you need."

"Nnng..," he traced the tip of his nose down the pulsating line, taking in your scent.

With a hiss gurgling in the back of his throat, he opened his mouth.

Closing your eyes, burning tears streaking out your bloodied face, you smiled.

"I'm all yours, beloved..."

~ _Between the shores of keen delights and pains;  
In the embrace where madness melts in bliss,  
And in the convulsive rapture of a kiss--  
Thus doth Love speak..._~

_"...Darling...?_


	6. Did I Tell You...

[Arima x Investigator!Reader]

_Did I tell you how much I love you?_

You twiddled the pen between your thumb an index, staring into the blank canvas before you. 

What sort of final words could you possibly piece together for those you cherished?

Thank you for everything?

Don’t grieve for me for I died a noble cause?

Black and white compositions seemed so empty, nothing in comparison to a smile, a hug, a kiss, face to face contact.

This felt like a coward’s way out, instead of dealing with the inevitable grief you knew would come.

But, how does one say goodbye? 

To one in particular, you had a general idea.

And it took more courage than any ghoul that could tear your flesh and bring you down.

_Did I even tell you that I loved you?_

_I never spoke of it during our times together._

_I never knew how to tell you._

A lump gathered in the base of your throat, yet no tears wetted the rims of your eyes. With every beat of your heart, a pain gripped your entire chest, taking your breath away.

Love hurts, people would say.

And you never understood that until you met him, until he turned away from your longing gazes, from your words of ordinary conversation, trembling from the burden of your love. 

Love hurt.

No, love killed to be more precise.

You gazed into the empty spaces of white, your words fading away into nothing. 

If only these cursed emotions would do the same...

If only these pointless feelings you wasted so much time and energy on would fade away into nothing, just as the ink on a page...

He never glanced your way, 

so why bother inscribing something you knew would simply hang in the atmosphere, untouched, unrecognized?

_Did I tell you I would die for you?_

_You possess such godlike strength, no one dares, ghoul or human, cross your path._

_No one dares face you in the heat of battle._

_I know you don’t need anyone._

_But for you, I would do anything..._

_Did I tell you I would die for you?_

_I would. I would die for you._

But, in the end, perhaps releasing the chains was just that hint of closure you needed...

...whether he saw them or not...

With the final stroke of your pen, a soft rap broke you from your trance. Jumping from your seat, you pivoted about, back to the desk. White hair gleamed in the light as the door cracked open.

“Excuse me,” came the smooth, monotone voice.

Your heart fluttered at his cold eyes, glistening behind sharp, silver frames. 

“Are you finished?” he inquired curtly.

You scanned him for a moment: rigid, arms crossed, pristine, porcelain face perfect...and unchanged.

Nothing...

What honestly did you expect?

“Yes, Arima,” you replied, almost in a whisper. “I am finished.”

With nothing more than a nod to reply, he turned to leave. 

Your shoulders and your head dropped. Despite the twinge in your heart, a hint of relief settled in.

At least you knew for sure.

Glancing over the paper once more, you folded it and shoved it into your coat pocket, close to your heart. 

Maybe if you died, someone would find the remains of your broken heart.

Maybe then, he would know.

_Did I tell you that I love you...?_

_No, I didn’t._

_Things like that don’t really matter around here._

_But, in case you ever wondered, in some unoccupied corner of your mind,_

_I love you._


	7. Drunk Texts

[Kaneki x Reader]

[Reader’s perspective] 

_Fall in love, they said._

_It’ll so fun. It’ll feel so nice. You’ll feel so good._

_Bullshit._

_All bullshit._

_It does nothing but cause grief._

_But, no, of course not._

_Fall in love, they said._

_Well, I do; a sweet, little college student, that visits my favorite coffee shop, loves to quietly read, never bothering anyone. A million and one thoughts seem to run through his mind. We never spoke much, but the little that we did, he always presented himself with a smile and kind words._

_He’s not the essence of film, a model, or fairytale. But, I love that. He’s down to earth. He’s simple. He’s real. He drowns out any lofty ideas of romance, just through his kind words and peaceful demeanor._

_How funny we should attend the same college._

_How funny we share similar classes._

_And how funnier that we become such close friends._

_It all seemed too good to be true, me growing so close to him, but my goal was in sight. I could taste it. I could almost touch it..._

_Until he starts speaking of another girl..._

_Someone he’s had his eyes on for weeks. Some pretty girl with vivid, violet locks, sparkling eyes, curvaceous figure, and of course, she reads. She fucking reads. And all the same books he does._

_Of fucking course..._

_Fall in love, they said._

_It’d be fun, they said._

_Well, now what the fuck am I supposed to do...?_

............

.....................

.................................  
.

_I’ll tell him I love him._

_Yeah, that’s it. I’ll pretend to be shitfaced and pretend to drunk text him._

_That way if he asks, I have an answer._

............

.....................

.................................

2:46 AM - 10/26

You: Kanekiiiiii, wazzap?!?!?!

Kaneki: What are you doing up so late?

You: just out downin sum good shit wanna come???

Kaneki: Studying atm

You: awwwww cmon!! company would be niiiiice

Kaneki: Tomorrow night, after exams. :)

_How the hell did he stay so kind...?_

You: deal.

Kaneki: No problem. Don’t hurt yourself, okay?

You: u got it, bro. ;3

You: luv you

Kaneki: Love you too. <3

You: No, seriously, i luv u so fucking much, you don’t even know

Kaneki: I love you too. :) You’re one of my best friends.

_Friends..._

You: yeah

You: c ya, kaneki

_Friends..._

_Falling in love..._

_What a joke..._

_I guess anything is better than nothing...right?_

“How did the exam go?”

“Oh, you know, nothing special.”

“You feel you did okay?”

“Yeah, but you never know.”

“Eh, well, I’m just gonna wing it tomorrow.”

“Typical of you, Hide.”

“Hey, just keeping it real.”

“Hide....”

“Yeah?”

“I got these texts from [Name] last night. Seemed a little erratic.”

........

..................

............................

“Hide, why are you looking at me like that?”

“Those have to be old or something.”

“What?”

“[Name] was found dead three days ago...”


	8. Signed

[Juuzou x Investigator!Reader]

“Can I sit with you?”

So long had you spent staring at your fingers, gripping the wooden chopsticks, you failed to realize the world of reality surrounding you. Triggering a little jump in your seat, a lithe figure practically hovered over you, boring his stare into your skull.

“Juuzou!” you piped. “You scared me! I didn’t hear you!”

“It’s alright!” he said with a grin. “I just want to sit with you! Is that okay, investigator?”

Scratching the back of your head, you took a minute to observe the boy: crimson eyes, wide and gleaming, snowy hair tossed about his shoulders, fastened back with vibrant pins, and vibrant, vermillion yarn threaded into his placid skin.

Juuzou Suzuya.

He was known not only for his extraordinary physical ability, but his fits of insanity, his sadistic streak, his boundless energy, and reckless conduct. Despite his advancement in years, he resembled such a young, imaginative lad with his head in the clouds and a smile on face. Even with his rather sadistic streak and oddities, you couldn’t withhold a smirk or two yourself being around him.

The way you saw it, everyone possessed their own assortment of oddities and quirks.

He just possessed no shame about them.

Of course, with him, oddities and quirks were just a nice way of putting it.

You knew many of your coworkers were put off by him, but in honestly, you liked him.

Flashing a quick wink, you pulled out a vacant seat at your side.

“Sure,” you replied. “I’d enjoy the company in fact!”

Suddenly, a fire seemed to light up in him, as if granting that small request was granting him the entire world in the palm of his hands.

“Yaaay! Thank youuuu!” he sang, basically lunging himself at the chair, tipping it over and nearly knocking you out of your own. Thankfully, you reacted fast enough to grab the table and prop yourself up.

“Easy now,” you lightly patted his shoulder as he gathered his rice and utensils together.

With no other reply than the broadest of smiles, he scarfed down his lunch like a hungry child after school. You simply shook your head and returned to your own lunch, more fiddling with it than anything.

You couldn’t help but wonder....

“Can I give you a hug?”

Sweat rolled from the rim of your brow. A burning sensation flowed through your fingers from the violent gripping of your quinque. Your lungs trembled behind your rib cage as you attempted to stabilize your breathing. 

Once again, eyes of red sparkled like rubies as Juuzou waited for your reply. 

Despite having just subdued a nasty gang of ghouls, he showed no sign of fatigue or even exertion. He simply folded his hands behind his back, rocking his reals back and forth.

“Pardon?” you answered, wiping the moistness from your forehead. 

“Can I give you a hug, investigator?” he repeated, stretching his arms out to you. “Just a hug! I promise!”

You cocked your head and raised a brow in attempt to process such an out of place request. 

You had a basic understanding of his past, at least, what little his partner, Shinohara, told you. All you needed to know was his childhood and even his identity being stolen away. He never received the attention and love he obviously craved.

Honestly, what was the harm?

After placing down your weapon, you held out your arms to him and said, 

“Why not? I love a good hug-”

Before you could properly end your thought, he threw himself into your arms, latching his own about your waist, and pressing his cheek into your chest. You were positive your heart temporarily malfunctioned as you stood there stiffly for a moment. But, he simply tightened his hug and pulled you closer, humming in contentment. 

“Ahh, haha, you’re not going anywhere, huh,” you murmured more to yourself than anyone as you glanced about for any curious eyes.

He pressed himself into your person in response.

All the same, the more you felt strands of his hair brush against your own, his warmth melding with yours, the happy, little noises he emitted, and his scent, you found yourself relaxing into the embrace. You rested your cheek to the top of his head and occasionally stroked his head.

No harm done, you thought. 

Suddenly, the thoughts of those around you meant nothing to you anymore. 

“Stay as long as you want,” you whispered, lightly swaying with him.

“Can I kiss you?”

You wondered if for a moment you suffered a stroke as you gawked up at Juuzou practically floating around your desk, gazing at you with more intensity with ever, drilling a nail into your head with his eyes.

He didn’t say that.

Surely not.

....Did he?

“Come again?”

Tilting his head, he leaned in closer, but you had no where to move.

His smirk completely adorned his aura with mischief. 

“Can. I. Kiss. You?”

And all you could do was gawk.

Truth be told, thoughts depicting this very scenario formulated in your mind occasionally. Considering his very immature mannerisms and behavior, the notion of any sort of relationship seemed out of the realms of reality. 

Once on a rare occasion, you would catch glimpses on his face during times of quietness. Such gravity weight down his youthful face; wisdom beyond the years of everyone around you, pain that scarred his very soul. You could feel your own heart twinge just from one glance. It made you wonder what events formed his past that made him into this insane, disturbed, wonderful creature you knew as Juuzou.

True, thoughts like this crossed your mind from time to time. 

You just never thought the opportunity would ever present itself.

And who were you to say no to him?

Placing down your notebook and pen, you leaned in towards him, turning your cheek to him.

“Sure, why not?” said you. “Lay one on me.”

Causing your stomach to turn, he released a low, devilish chuckle. Taking your chin between his fingers, he turned your face towards him. Before you could respond, he closed the gap between you two, pressing his lips gently against your own.

Completely taken aback, your eyes remained glued open. Your face flushed completely red, and your heart beat against your tympanic membranes, as if trying to escape from your body all together. The little thread in his lip tickled the sensitive nerves in your own. 

It was a strange, closed mouthed kiss, no movement, just slow breathing and a thin smile. Honestly, you weren’t expecting much in regards to skill.

But, at the same time, you couldn’t be more content. 

You simply closed your eyes and accepted his offering.

Out of nowhere, you felt something soft fall about your neck. Cold air remained where he left. When you decided to look, Juuzou’s head was focused on your neck and a red string wrapped around his fingers.

“Juuzou?” you muttered. “What...?”

“There we go!” he sang, moving his hands away.

When you touched your neck, your fingers traced the outline of the string, tied about your neck in a little bow. 

“What’s this?” you asked with a tilt of your head.

“I knew you probably didn’t want a needle in your skin,” he giggled, flicking the loop of the bow. “So think of this as me signing my name on you.”

You blinked again. 

“Signed?”

“Yes!” causing you to grunt, he plopped himself in your lap. “Can you be mine?”

“What?”

Nestling his head under your chin, he repeated,

“Can you be mine?”

Not once did you ever expect this scenario to ever pan out,

and it took no time for you to reply with a flush of pink to your cheeks and a quiet laugh,

“Sure. Why not?”


	9. Nefastus

[Uta x Investigator!Reader]

“You smell good.”

With the faintest of chuckles, you passed Uta the styrofoam cup, trails of heat ominously floating above the brown liquid, before taking your seat in the leather couch at his side.

“I promise you,” you retorted, popping off the plastic covering of your much needed coffee for the day. “It’s just the coffee scent masking it.”

“Mm-mm,” he shook his head and turned the cup in his hands. He watched the tiny ripples drip and quiver in their circular confinements before his inauspicious eyes shifted over to you. “Not at all. You always smell good.”

Without even glancing over at him, you felt each vertebra latch tightly together as your back stiffened from the weight of his gaze. Waves of heat washed over you, and sparks of electricity tickled parts of your body you much rather have kept secret. 

Being an investigator of the CCG, you knew the dynamic of this relationship was off limits in every sense of the word. In fact, you sensed the misfortune of this decision as soon as you crossed the threshold of his shop. Relaxed, quirky, dangerous, he possessed an offbeat charm during your interrogations you found irresistible.

Was he a ghoul? Yes.

Was a bad idea for you as a human to get involved? Probably.

Should you have been getting involved with him being an investigator? Hell no.

All the same, you kept returning here whether your job required it or not.

One thing lead to another, and before you even realized it, you were caught in his net.

Not that you minded.

You _wanted_ to be caught.

Uta delivered a special kind of thrill in your life not even a furious battle with a ghoul on the run could bring. Frankly, with your status, it made his life within his shop a great deal more interesting.

And oh, how he loved to torture you so. 

With him being a ghoul and you being a Dove, he could easily make your life miserable. Decorating your lovely skin with marks of purple and red, then sending you off to work, was nothing short of amusing, especially when you returned with a scowl. 

You always came back for more though. 

You couldn’t stay away, and it was worse than any alcohol or substance ever concocted by hand. 

How wrong it was.

But, didn’t that make it all the more exciting? 

You took another deep breath and another swig of your coffee. With a quirk of his brow and a upward twitch of his mouth, Uta urged closer to you. Sensing the rustle of his clothes and the sinking of the cushion, you etched away to the end of the couch, until you had nowhere to go. A soft chuckle resonated in his throat. 

“Kind of a lame attempt to fight back, eh?” he more stated than anything. 

“Shut up.”

“What. I’m right.”

Triggering an involuntary gasp from your lips, he took your lobe between his teeth and sunk in every so slightly. You couldn’t ignore your stomach twisting and knotting with delight, but you held your ground. With a hand on his chest, you gently pushed him away, just enough for you to scope his placid face, eyes of ebony and crimson glued to your own. Even with the building tension, his face not once changed expression.

You hated it when he was like that.

It just wasn’t fair...

Swallowing the hard lump in your throat, you raised an eyebrow and replied with,

“You think you’re always right, huh? Think I can’t say no to you once in a while?”

A quick breath of air escaping his nose and an upper twitch of his mouth, he etched closer to you, closer, closer, until you had nowhere to move. Your back was pinned to the arm of the sofa, and his chest pressed into your own. Heat colored your cheeks. His lids lowered, eyes clouding with lust, his mouth lightly encircled your own as he spoke. Sweat beaded along your brow, and every fiber of your being was set ablaze. His tongue pushed between his lips, slowly circling your mouth, barely making contact, but enough to prickle every nerve.

Finally, with a low rumble of laughter in his chest, he finally answered, 

“No. You can’t.” 

Before you could retort, he grabbed a handful of your hair and immersed your lips into a soul sucking kiss. You practically yelped into his mouth at the sudden vigor of his actions.

In the end he was right. He was always right. 

You could never say no to him,

and you never would, no matter how many rules you broke in the process.


	10. Monophobia

[Tsukiyama x Reader]

You knew something was wrong. 

Tsukiyama Shuu made multiple surprise appearances to your college recently. As soon as you uttered one word of your school distresses, he was there, a red rose between his pretty, long fingers, romantic words pieced together to pull you from your slump. Not a trace of shame adorned his person. You loved that about him. You envied that bursting aplomb and grace weaved into his very being, that confidence it took to pull you into his embrace, muttering words of love into your ear without a single care in the world. As if by his own magic, he could make every worry, ever anxiety building up inside you disappear.

All the same, a little voice in the back of your mind tugged at you each time he appeared. Perhaps it was the dash of redness circling the whites of his eyes or the glistening of those precious spheres of violet as if salted tears graced their features. Maybe it was his downcast face and depressed shoulders when you happened upon him in solitude. 

You knew something was wrong without him even speaking one syllable. 

Tsukiyama battled with his own forms of depression. Be it a concern or an enigmatic feeling seeming to conjure from nowhere, he struggled silently with these infernal beasts. He managed this with such grace, not a soul would ever know of it.

Time was on your side, however, and every bit of it you spent with him equipped you with the means of seeing through his clever disguises. 

Now, it was your turn.

_Intimidating._

This word never ceases to come to mind as you stood before Tsukiyama’s enormous home. Luxury, wealth, opulence, lavishness, these words and more described his very essence both in his material possessions and his entire being. 

No wonder so many were attracted to him. They were like moths to the flame, and should his appetite be at his strongest, he wouldn’t hesitate to consume them. 

Such was the danger of loving a ghoul. 

But, it was a risk worth taking.

With a hard swallow, your fingers clutched the cold, brass knocker and rapped three times, each touch vibrating the entirety of the door, echoing within the house, like a clock announcing the coming hours. The sound vibrated and faded into nothing.

Then, you waited....

and you waited...

And waited.

Your heart raced just a little, and your thoughts circulated.

What if something was horribly wrong?

Something worse than anticipated?

What if he was dying and not saying anything?

What if he was horrifically ill, something no human or ghoul could ever cure?

What if-

“Darling?”

Your heart stopped.

You glanced up and spotted a familiar flash of dark purple.

Thank goodness....

Wait, but your were letting the silence grow...and grow.

Shit-!

“Ahhh, Tsukiyama-! I...”

Brain stopping.

Words. Not. Coming.

“I was just thinking about you, and,” you tugged at your hair. “I haven’t seen you in a while, so I was kind of worried.”

He blinked at you for a minute, expression unreadable. 

“So,” damn, he never failed with words, and you were utterly pathetic. “I...I just wanted to come by. Make sure you’re okay.”

That was it, right?

You didn’t need to say anything else, right?

Mostly...?

Much to your relief, a light chuckle resonated in his throat. He opened the door and stepped aside, allowing you to enter, as a true gentleman would. Little things like that always made your heart flutter.

“It is always a delight to see you, mon cherie,” he said before linking an arm with you. 

You simply returned the favor with a smile. 

Nothing but the most expensive of decorations surrounded you; silks, velvet, gold, silver, original paintings, pottery. Even the richest in the neighborhood would envy the beauty of this estate.

None of it compared to the glint in Tsukiyama Shuu’s violet eyes when he smiled, when his confidence was at his best, when everything was going well.

And that was gone. 

He never was the type to speak of sorrow. He wanted you to see him as strong. He wanted you to see him as a tower you could lean on. 

But, everyone had weaknesses.

Even Tsukiyama.

He lead you to his bedroom, painted in vibrant red and gold. The bed resting at the center seemed unnecessarily large for a single gentleman. A soft light rested on the cherry wooden table by his bed. 

Tsukiyama had been dressed in what you assumed were his pajamas. Dark circles sunk blow his eyes, and his already white face seemed so placid. 

What was wrong...? 

With a playful tug a his sleeve, you led him to the bedside and forced him down with you.

“You look exhausted,” you said. “Have you been doing something?”

He shook his head.

“Working?”

“Non.”

“Umm...is someone after you or something like that?”

He chuckled a little.

“You’re the only one chasing after me, love.”

You pursed your lips. 

“Come on,” you nudged him again. “I came all this way, and you’re not gonna tell me.”

A long pause. 

You watched his face: his brows wrinkled, lips tightened. He winced as if he felt physical pain. 

_Don’t jump to conclusions,_ you told yourself.

_Let him talk._

Much to your surprise, he clutched you tighter, pulled you closer. His face burrowed into your jacket sleeve, tears soaked up by the fabric. 

“Tsukiyama?”

You latched your arms around him, occasionally stroking his head. 

As strange as it was, this was what you wanted.

“I lost a friend,” he choked in between words. “Someone dear to me has left.”

“Wh...what?”

“He was someone I admired, someone I respected,” fingernails dug into your skin as he clutched you.

Sure, it was painful, but your pain mattered nothing.

“He’s gone. After everything...Why...”

His voice trailed into nothing but muffled sobs.

Though you knew nothing of the specifics, you understood the concept of losing someone dear. Every had at some point in their life, be it friend, family, or lover. 

“Tsukiyama, it’s okay,” you muttered, nuzzling his hair. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

“Why...Why?!” as his cries became more frantic, his scleras darkened bit by bit. His irises slowly morphed to crimson. “Why do people I love leave me alone?! Why?!”

You swallowed the lump of fear forming in your throat. Your muscles tightened, and your breaths shortened, ready to bolt should the time call for it. He must not have eaten for days, hence

But, you still held him tight.

“Tsukiyama,” you managed to say without a tremble in your voice. “You’re not alone.”

Teeth grinding and voice burbling in his chest, his sadness began the terrifying transition into rage. 

“Tsukiyama! Wait, stop-!!

_TSUKIYAMA!”_

Much to your relief, he froze immediately. 

A second passed,

and he slowly released you from his grasp, and he sank into your arms, limp, flaccid. 

Now, you could breathe. 

Tears flowed from his still distorted eyes. With a cold, shaking hand, he touched your cheek.

“Ah, my darling,” he whispered. “How I must have terrified you.”

You shook your head.

“It’s okay. It really is.”

“Non, mon ange,” using what little energy he could muster, he rose eye level to you, now able to hold your face with a tenderness that still left you breathless. “No lover should ever treat his lady as such,” he brushed lose strands of hair from your eyes. “How cruel of me.”

“Hey, everyone’s gotta get out those bad emotions eventually.”

At last, he laughed, that beautiful, musical laugh you cherished so well. 

And when he looked at you once more, that sparkle in his vibrant eyes returned.

_There you are..._

After placing a quick kiss upon your mouth, he held you close, sliding his fingers through your hair. 

“Merci,” he muttered against the skin of your forehead.

“Anytime.”


	11. Prurio

[Tsukiyama x Reader] - [Tsukiyama’s perspective]

The simplest of minds would say that partaking of food is nothing more than source of fuel, a source of ineffectual comfort, a mindless engagement of mouth to esophagus for the pettiest of excuses.

_Imbéciles._

So many humans fail to comprehend the undeserved privileges bestowed on them. So open are they to a world of delight, an esoteric abundance of taste, flavor, savor, yet they refuse to take such a perfect opportunity to explore this universe of possibility. 

Partaking of a meal should be so much more than just ingesting of substance - a repast must incorporate every sense, the manner in which it is prepared, the aroma, the luxurious textures coating the tongue with every bite, the complexity of flavors melding into a sensuous yet simplistic harmony. Such a feast is a work of art, not only fueling the body but awakening every aspect of the soul and mind.

Even dwelling amongst these ungrateful creatures as a ghoul, with what seems to be few options open to me, I still manage to notice the potential to be drawn from each delicacy, the possibilities to be explored, the opportunities to be taken! The texture of the skin, the quality of the blood, the variety of imperfections, the hue of the muscle fibers, each anatomical structure tells a story, both beautiful and tragic, without the person uttering one syllable. I discover more about someone than they are even aware of with one simple bite. 

It is a prerogative granted only to ghouls, and I milk it for all it s worth.

You however are anomaly. You have witnessed at my most hideous on more than one occasion. You know what I am. You know what I must devour in order to survive.

Yet, you endure at my side.

You seek out my company, listen to my verbose conversation, even smile at an occasional, imprudent word or two. 

Many a time, I have nearly taken you as my next meal,

and just before I can sink my teeth into you, you press two fingers into my neck, urging me closer, as if you wish for me to.

No words exist to illustrate the gravitas of emotion your actions bore into my very soul, what power your presence holds over me. 

Unable am I to release you now. 

Now, I shall permanently make you mine. 

Within the foyers of my edifice, only two souls reside; yours and mine - no one to appease, no one to answer for our actions, except our lovesick hearts.

A simple exploration of your face with my fingertips send tingles up the length of my arms, heating my body, triggering my mouth to moisten. 

Such a perfect texture, such a heavenly aroma. It proves such a challenge not to imagine how you would taste, how your skin would break and your blood coating my touch. 

The craving battling with the carnal - perhaps these powerful desires raging against one another fuels the excitement. 

You sense this as your delicate neck strains to capture your breath, allowing those elegant muscles to protrude every so lightly. 

I lean closer to your enticing, slightly parted lips. I sense the sparks igniting as friction begins. Your eyes close. My eyes close. How something so tiny provide such a sensation is a mystery, one that might never be unraveled.

How even more delightful that it can be shared between a creature of heaven and a devil like myself?

Releasing a quivering breath, no longer am I able to contain myself. Clutching your body to my own, I engulf your mouth in a kiss, rhythmic, sultry, yearning. Your fingers entwine with my own. Sweet sounds emanate within your throat as you attempt to retain a little control of yourself.

Try as you may, mon colibri, but the night is young.

Let us make fools of ourselves chained only by silken sheets.

_Que mes baisers soient les mots d'amour que je ne te dis pas...._


	12. Auxilium

[Kaneki x Ghoul!Reader]

_I love you._

Words so simple, so easy to say, words with such gravitas and power beyond human comprehension; words carelessly thrown about with little thought as to the meaning of each simple syllable; words so cherished, they carry themselves through time, guising themselves in every language to deliver that same power to these simple, terrestrial beings.

Kaneki Ken knew the significance of this seemingly simple sentence; so much so, just the thought of whispering it left his knees to tremble and his heart to race.

You visited the Anteiku, the same time every day: 4:00 PM, on the dot, books in hand, the same cup of coffee every day, and every time, you slaved away until the heavens closed the curtains for the sun to open the stage for the nocturnal celestial beings. 

He wondered if it made him voyeuristic, but he enjoyed watching you from behind the counter; the way the warm glow of the lights cast a glow along your cheeks, in your locks, the way your lashes feathered across your skin as you gazed intently at your work, the way your hair framed your face, the tugging at your sleeves, the fidgeting of your pen as you pondered. Every gesture, every twitch, every expression told a story, told something about who you were. It made you fascinating and enticing to him. It even brought him a strange sense of peace to watch someone still struggle with mundane things of life. It brought back sweet memories of his days as a college student, in which his greatest concern was the next exam or the literature essay due next week.

“Don’t take it for granted,” he would whisper, when he spotted your fingers curl and your eyes narrow at a frustrating passage.

You were always the last to leave, yet you never departed until you shared at least a few words with him. 

It started small; a hello and goodbye, a thank you, a clipped compliment on the beverage, until these quick exchanges escalated into small questions about each other, to short conversations, until finally, you were losing yourselves in each other, leaning what you could, sharing what you held dear. 

Though the words never came, he knew what you were. You knew what he was. It was a survival instinct, the ability to detect one of your kind. It made it easier to understand one another, to relate to the struggles of a ghoul in a human world. The closer you became, the more you even depended on each other for support, for resisting immediate desire for blood proved difficult for hungering ghouls. 

So difficult...

Tonight was one of those nights you truly needed him more than ever. 

Blood stained your shirt, and the rancid scent bore into your nostrils, imprinting it into those strong sensory nerves. Your arms hung like lead, and your feet dragged across the concrete, every step like lifting an anvil. Tears burned the corners of your eyes, and your stomach twisted and knotted.

You swore it wouldn’t happen again.

You promised never to soil your hands with another’s blood.

Why...

_Why...?_

All you could recall was walking from work, the streetlights flickering and the glow of the moon masking behind thick clouds. You sensed the click of heels behind you, but you payed it no mind, until it drew closer...closer...closer....

A thick arm encircling your throat.

The cold barrel of a gun pressed into your temples. 

Hot breath against your ear as a gruff voice threatened to drag you with him.

Your mind blanked.

_Kill or be killed._

_Survive._

_Get away._

And your body went into overdrive, breaking free, tearing, clawing, biting, until the attacker became nothing but shreds beneath you. Blood crusted the corner of your mouth, the tip of your tongue ever so delicately grazing the rim of your lips. 

How could something be so savory...? The life flow of humans, the elixir keeping their heart beating and their minds capable of thought and imagination, and it was only the sauce glazing the entree. 

The toughness of the muscle fibers yet the tenderness of the skin, making it simple for the teeth to sink through. 

_Stop._

You gripped the sides of your hair in hopes to cease this toxic train of thought. 

Had you not, you might have engaged in another killing spree...

All you knew was to stagger to your safe haven, the only place you knew you would be welcome.

Maybe he would be there...

Maybe he could at least talk a little sense into you, be it soft words or a couple of jabs to your face, anything would do at this point.

_8:00. Surely, there would be some ghouls wandering around this time of night, thirsting for some coffee. Surely, Anteiku would be open. What if they aren’t? A Dove could find me. This could be the end of everything for me..._

In the midst of your storm of thoughts, you spotted the warm glow reaching through the glass, like an embrace, inviting you to step into its protection. With a quivering sigh, you stepped before its entrance. After wiping loose blood from your hands, it took every bit of your strength not to lose balance as you clutched the cold handle. 

All was quiet. The cafe was empty, but the aroma of coffee clung to the air as you breathed. Clutching your sweater, the fabric clinging to wet skin, you shuffled to a table farthest from the windows. 

_Someone? Anyone?_ rang the voice in your mind as you sunk into the chair, every muscle fiber aching and twitching.

_Help._

_Please._

A rustle. A clink of class. Your heart jumped into your throat. In the state you were in, a leaf floating to the ground would have caused you to shriek. But, as you raised swollen, red-rimmed eyes, you noted jet black hair, an apron, pale fingers.

_Thank heavens..._

“Kaneki,” your voice could muster no more volume than a cracked whisper. 

The boy turned to you with a gentle smile, handles carefully cradling the coffee filter, water from the pot beginning to whistle and steam.

“Figured you’d be coming by today,” he stated. “You always do, even when you’re late.”

You blinked, dumbfounded, unsure of what to say. 

“How was your exam this afternoon?” he continued, pouring the stream of fluid into the grounds. “It was this afternoon, right?”

Did he not see the blood, the bruises, the dirt? Was he ignoring it on purpose? 

“Um,” you cleared your throat and returned his smile, lips cracking. “Yeah, it went well. Gotta another paper due, so,” you shrugged. “Never ends with school, right?”

Your mug balanced gently between his palms, he made his way to your table placing the enticing beverage before you. 

“Yeah, but enjoy it while you can,” he gazed into your eyes, his one School doesn’t last very long, and when it’s gone, it’s lost forever.”

Those last few words echoed in your mind. Your heart ached.

No one knew the meaning of those words better than he.

You watched the dark pool ripple and still before taking the handle, bringing the rim to your lips: smooth, rich, a hint of bitterness, his signature brew.

It never ceased to put you at ease. 

Suddenly, a clear droplet landed in the coffee, then another, then another. The more you blinked. The more they fell. 

“Ng, shit,” you grumbled, using dirty fingers to brush away your tears. 

Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at Kaneki. He saw. There was no point in hiding. 

But, if only you knew the ache he felt in his own heart...

“Aw, shucks,” you forced a laugh. “Now the coffee will taste salty.”

The lump in your throat swelled, and the tears only continued to fall. Your stomach twisted, and your mind shut down. 

He could see you straining, your fingers clenching, your teeth sinking into your lip, your brows furrowing. Quickly, he moved his chair closer to your side, and taking the corner of his apron, he leaned in to wipe away some of the blood staining the skin of your jaw. Your back stiffened. Your eyes shifted over to him.

A gentle smile planted on his lips. 

“At least it’s just a scratch,” he stated.

This kid never stopped amazing you. Once again, all you could do was stare with your mouth slightly parted. 

“Kaneki, I...”

“Are you okay?”

“Kaneki, look, this isn’t what-I mean-I was going home, then this guy attacked me-it was so sudden I just-” your tongue seemed tangled between your teeth. Words poured out like vomit. “I...”

He simply cupped your cheek with the cloth, dark eyes glimmering in the warm light, ebony hair catching hues of the orange glow of the shop.

“You’re okay, right?” 

A pause lingered between you a moment or two. Slowly, but surely, you realized...you were _safe_. Honestly, truly, you were safe with him. Had you killed the man, had you killed an army of men, Kaneki would have welcomed you with open arms, bringing you a cup of his coffee and tending to your injuries. Whether it was the kind of person he was, or the feelings he harbored towards you, it did not matter, just as long as you had a shelter to run to in this cruel world.

Finally being able to release a long sigh of relief, you nodded in reply.

His heart nearly burst upon finally seeing your grimace melt into an expression of contentment. To think he was responsible for that made his pulse race faster than it ever had.

Then again, only you were capable of that.

He pressed his lips together, the oral muscles numbing at the tension. The pulse escalated into violent beating at his ears. His mind screamed erratically at him to speak:

_Say it._

_Say it._

_Hurry, say it._

But, with a gulp and a wipe of his forehead, he cleared his throat. 

Then, the corners of his eyes crinkled, smiling with his lips.

“Good.”

_Maybe another time..._

The smile vanished. His eyes lowered. 

And as you watched him take your hand, tending to the wound in your palm, you tilt your head.

"Hey, what's up with your face?"


	13. Exquisite

[Amon x Ghoul!Reader]

_Beautiful..._

_A beautiful, deep shade of red, like the most luxurious of velvet or the richest of wines ..._

A smile tugged at your lips as you gazed into the Investigator’s eyes.

_Deep pools of blue doused in hues of green, like the clear waters of a nighttime oasis..._

_Skin pale like the glow of a full moon, and locks ebony like the midnight sky..._

_Exquisite..._

It was strange of you to love someone from afar, especially one out to exterminate your kind. 

But, his strength and passion for his work sparked something inside you. 

For once, you found a little meaning in your droll life as a ghoul.

Finally, you could dispose of your role as the hunter,

and become the hunted instead.

Running from him sent chills down your spine. Hiding from him gave you the same thrills as a child playing hide and seek in the dark. You adored watching his expression of extreme frustration as he failed to locate you, the clenching of his fists, the bulging veins beneath his skin, the grinding of his teeth and the wrinkle in his brow.

What bliss.

To think so much effort would be put into chasing you down and ending you. 

How flattering.

How exquisite.

His quinque delved deeper into your chest, into your heart. Sharp pain pulsated throughout your limbs. The tips of your fingers fell numb. The violent throbbing in your ears faded little by little. 

His grip around the handle of his weapon loosened, and his muscles relaxed. Finally, the seething within his eyes dimmed, allowing you to see those beautiful shades of teal within those orbs.

Victory was his. 

No need to struggle. 

Finally, he could grant you a nod of respect. 

And you returned the favor, slowly, every muscle fiber aching.

You would not have it any other way.

Being killed by someone you admired so much.

Ah, how you enjoyed this sensation, this pain.

How perfect.

How _exquisite._


	14. Vanitati

[Uta x Investigator!Reader]

“I’m not sure this is what you want, darling.”

Your brow wrinkled and shoulders hunched in defense, your arms folded across your chest, eyes cast to the polished black and white tile of the shop’s floor. Uta already closed shop but as soon as he heard you calling his name, knocking frantically at the large, wooden door, hair in a frizzy mess, bruises and scratches covering your face, he granted your entrance. 

Despite your merely being human, working as an investigator proved your capabilities and strength. Doves needed one hell of a backbone to face off against ghouls, especially the ones lurking in the underbelly of the city, the monsters kept secret by frightened citizens or human choosing to live in blissful ignorance. But, you had no choice but to exist with one eye in the back of your head, always prepared to fight, always prepared to defend yourself from becoming someone’s next meal.

During one of your cases, you first met with Uta in his mask shop, hoping to find any traces of the criminal. So young you seemed at the time, this being your first investigation, and you had yet to discover his ways of fooling with Doves and averting their gaze from the hidden community of ghouls. 

You were relentless when it came to finding answers though, and even he had to admit that. He enjoyed watching you squirm in frustration or attempt to struggle between agitation and anger. Despite your focus remaining primarily on your duty, you couldn’t help but feel charmed by his quirky mannerisms and laid back attitude, and you found yourself looking for pathetic excuses to visit his shop, less having to do with your work and more having to do with your undeniable fascination with him. You grew closer and closer, slowly becoming friends, a ghoul and human, dancing over a fine line between exciting and idiotically dangerous. Naturally, no one else at the CCG knew of this strange affair. Had this been discovered, you would have been immediately fired from the forces, and in your exaggerated imagination, banished as a human being. So, you did your best to remain quiet and only visit when the shades of night fell.

And worst of all, the worst mistake of all, you found comfort in his presence, peace when he was near, and that was the last thing you needed to feel with a ghoul so much in the same vicinity as you.

Your gaze remained glued to the floor, clutching at the sleeve of your coat. The combination of physical exertion and the weight of Uta’s stare caused your legs to tremble. The occasional sting from your injuries caused you to wince every once and a while. Otherwise, you remained perfectly still as you contemplated his answer. Feeling the heat swell in your cheeks from the humiliation of your own request, images of the week’s tragedies began creeping to the forefront of your mind.

_Death._

Unfortunately, your once sensitive heart grew calloused to the gruesome reality accompanying your job. But, once you believed yourself to be as strong as you could possibly, borderline heartless, another fellow Dove’s death shattered the wall you constructed around your emotions. Once again, you would find yourself trudging home to sink into your bed and sob into your pillow until you fell asleep from pure fatigue.

Tonight, however, you felt a sudden urge to come to Uta’s shop. While unorthodox, especially for a Dove, he was still your friend, and some company was better than none. 

As usual, he welcomed you, offering a place to sit, some coffee, a listening ear, but you found no strength to articulate what you’d been through. Nonetheless, he perceived it in your downcast expression, your scratches and bruises, the occasional tremble in your voice and limbs. 

He assumed you simply needed some time to gather your thoughts, until your inevitable departure. 

“Take it away,” you told him. “Numb the pain, even if it’s just for a little bit.”

Uta was taken aback by such a forward statement, especially coming from a supposed hunter of ghouls. Though your relationship was unusual for you two, he never imagined this to ever be a possibility. 

Slowly, he approached you, allowing the aroma off your skin to seep into his nose the closer he came. As he observed your features, despite their filthied state, he couldn’t deny your aesthetic appeal and enticing scent. He especially loved your lust for danger and thrill - otherwise, you wouldn’t be spending time with him. 

He tilted his head, brushing pieces of hair from your face. He noted the pink in your cheeks amongst the small wounds, the flinch in your body as his fingers lightly grazed over your forehead. 

After a deep breath, you muttered,

“I’m sure.”

He paused a moment, turning around the notion in his head.

A human and ghoul within such intimate proximity, the possibility of him losing control and devouring you?

How utterly _delightful._

With a nod, he took you by the wrist, and lead you to the back of his shop, back to a smaller room, with a small dresser topped with a lamp, a chair, a bed, and art supplies strewn about.

Sleep and art: aside from food, these were the two most important aspects of life to Uta. 

You turned back to him, head still lowered, and he slid your coat off your shoulders. 

“You know what you’re getting into,” he told you plainly. tossing it aside and slipping his fingers through the button loops of your shirt. “So, whatever happens isn’t my responsibility.”

You blinked in surprise at how straight forward he was. Sure, you weren’t asking for an extravagant romance with candles and dinner, but you supposed maybe there’d be a hint of seduction. You couldn’t complain though. The fact that he was even taking you up on this offer at all was a miracle. 

You only nodded. 

But, just as you were starting to second guess yourself, the ghoul’s lips met with yours, the contact initially causing you to gasp. Your mouth remained tight at first but you eventually eased into the rhythm he had set, enabling you to feel the warmth from his skin and occasionally the cold from his piercings. 

Already, your blood rushed, and your heart pounded. 

You never imagined a kiss from a ghoul could feel so...human. 

Gently grabbing your chin and raising your face up just a bit, he inched his tongue into your mouth, causing you to gasp. Your smell proved tempting enough for him. This chance to _taste_ you though awakened the ravenous side he tried so hard to suppress when around you. 

In response, he released a low hum, placed his hands in the crook of your waist and hip and pushed you into the bed. 

Oh, he could not wait to sink his teeth into you.

Whether or not that was a metaphor was still a mystery. 

Nimble fingers picked off your buttons one by one, peeling off your clothes. With trembling hands, you pulled his shirt over his head until nothing was between you except skin and air. Biting your lip, you traced your fingertips over his muscular form, over the intricate designs permanently inked into his body. Ah, what you would do for such artistic talent. He quivered a bit at such delicate caresses, and he felt pride swell in his chest.

“You like what you see?” he said, crawling on top of you. 

You cocked an eyebrow and the corner of your mouth. 

Before you could speak, his mouth crashed against yours initiating a hungry kiss, pressing his chest into yours, hands roaming down the lengths of your sides. Your breathing staggered as his tongue made its way inside your mouth once more, triggering a soft moan from your throat. Your unique taste overwhelmed his senses, shaking him to his very core, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand it. 

Pulling away for a gasp of air, you took him by the back of his head, almost jerking him down to your level and placing open mouthed kisses up the length of his neck. With another hum of approval, he turned to rub his face into your hair and once again breathed in your aroma, his newfound addiction. 

“Excited, huh?” he muttered. 

After dragging your tongue down his neck, you lightly sunk your teeth into the base. He released a shaky breath. Then, he pressed his hand into your lower back, urging you closer.

“Harder,” he whispered. “Harder.”

He asked after all. 

You dug your teeth in deeper and circled your tongue around the small bit of skin. 

Such an interesting taste, you thought. Smooth, bitter, inhaling his cologne, the heat from his skin, the pounding of his blood meeting in time with yours. Do ghouls always feel this much pleasure when devouring a human?

You finally released him, satisfied with the purple mark you left behind. The crimson with in his black hues smoldered as he gazed in your own, lips moistened and parted, breathing staggered. His arousal pulsating against your own. 

It took every fiber of his being not to immediately tear the flesh of off your bones. 

Fuck, you smelled so _good._

Swallowing hard, he buried his face into of your neck, practically suffocating himself with your fragrance. Warm hands traveled up your thighs removing any clothing barriers out of his way. The weight of his body practically crushed you the closer he drew. 

“If I don’t have you now,” he murmured in your ear, voice ragged. “you’ll be nothing more than a bloody corpse when I’m done with you.” 

As you wrapped your legs around him, you simply replied,

“I’ll take that chance.” 

With a short grunt, he plunged himself inside you, caring little for his technique. All he knew was if he didn’t reach a release of some sort now, he’d take a bite out of you,

and not in the fun, theoretical sense. 

Almost immediately, his thrusting became hard, violent. It hurt, so much so you couldn’t help but shriek. However, the pain mixed with pleasure added to the thrill of this lascivious encounter.

You got what you asked for.

Death, loss, sorrow, grief, none of it mattered. Hell, none of it even existed in this moment. 

All you wanted was for him to completely ruin you, even at the expense of your flesh and blood. 

As his pace increased, your nails dug into the flesh of his back, and his teeth grazed over your neck. Amidst intense heat and pain, your heart nearly leapt from the confinements of its skeletal cage. You sensed the pressure of his tongue against the skin between your ear and neck. Despite the violence of his tempo, you focussed solely on this tiny detail. 

You knew he wanted to taste. You knew he wanted to throw away everything you two built together as a ghoul and human just so he could finally obtain a meal he so craved. 

A part of you wished he would.

Suddenly, you felt yourself being pushed into a state of release, and he would shortly follow. Down you came from your state of thrill and ecstasy, slowly, slowly, back into reality. Your bodies clung to each other, sticky, hot, and sweaty. Uta’s body was limp atop yours, but his breathing finally began to slow. Your internal temperature cooled, your pulse slowed,

and it was over. 

This was what you asked for.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

After catching his breath, Uta shuffled to the edge of the bed already readjusting his clothes and uttering not a word. Your heart sank in your chest, but you mentally slapped yourself for it.

This was what you asked for, right?

You couldn’t expect any more. 

So....why did it still hurt?

Ruffling your hair, you rose from the bed and picked up your scattered clothes. Uta watched you redress, seemingly lost in thought. 

You couldn’t help but cringe. 

Did you just toss away your friendship you so cherished with him just for a night of thrills? 

Much to your surprise, when you finished dressing, the ghoul made his way out of the room to the entrance of his shop.

“I’m hungry,” he said without even turning to you. “I was gonna head down to Anteiku and grab a bite,” then, he flashed you a smile. “Wanna come?”

Relief washed over you, and you nodded. 

Just as you walked out into the cold night, he took your hand into his own and strolled with you down the empty streets, beneath the warm light of the corner lamps.


	15. Sentire

[Naki x Nurse!Reader]

Never in the history of the world did anything feel more relieving, more satisfying, more rejuvenating than the magical act of _sitting down._

After running around all day, administering medications, ambulating your recovering patients, wheeling patients down into the surgical unit, attempting to conjure up trying questions for the student shadowing you that day, taking a quick moment to sit, breathe, and catch up on your charting. On an average day, you were proficient in keeping track with your documenting, because you hated nothing more than staying overtime just to chart unnecessarily when you could be home catching up on sleeping. 

Now was the time. It was now or never. As soon as you finished these last few updates, you could retreat to the safety of your house with a hot drink and a hot meal. A hot bath might be nice to conclude the night before -

_Beep! Beep!_

Immediately, you cringed, and your hand gripped the computer mouse so aggressively, you were certain it would break.

It was Pavlovian for every nurse to want to contort into themselves automatically and die upon hearing the hideous buzz of the call light, especially if he or she sat down for the first time the entire shift. You peered over hoping, wishing, praying that perhaps it was someone else's patient.

Slowly, you eased your chair over to the call light's screen, and immediately, your heart plummeted into the depths of your bowels, and you resisted the urge to vomit the water you just consumed,

_095._

_No...._

_Not now._

For a few moments, the beeping of the call light silenced....before immediately starting up again...and such would the pattern be until you responded.

The shrill tone pierced through your eardrums, stabbing through your ear canals, drilling into your skull. 

Room 095...room to one of the most difficult patients, if not the most difficult patient you had the misfortune of dealing with. You knew little of his background, no, nothing more than he was once imprisoned in Cochlea before some organization freed him. You cared little about his history, other than it required several members of Commission of Counter Ghoul to monitor him, being a damned ghoul and all.

Did you hate ghouls? No, not at all. In fact, some of your favorite patients had been ghouls. Unlike most medical facilities, your hospital refused to shy away from housing ghouls when need be. In general, their anatomy resembled that of a human's, but studying the care of a ghoul required delving into understanding of Rc cells, their kakuhou, their diet, and so on. Though not needed for the average nurse, with the constant promotion of coexistence with the two species, you figured obtaining such knowledge was necessary for this day.

But this patient, simply titled Naki, was by far the biggest child of a man you ever encountered. Every time you entered, tears would be streaming down his face. No, no, not from allergies, not from congenital eye disease, not from pinkeye or a stye. 

No, no, no he just cried.

Constantly. 

About everything. 

Administration of medicine through injection? He cried. Administration of medication orally? He cried. Attempted to move his injured limbs in anyway shape or form? He cried. Simply looking at the gorging wound in his upper abdomen? He cried.

And cried.

And cried.

Your shift started at 7 AM, and by 1 PM, you felt as if you had run a marathon, with no chance to sit and eat any of the food you brought. You could be at home on your couch, snuggling in a warm blanket, watching a movie, eating some warm food. 

But, 

You knew taking on this job would require sacrifices. You knew this profession putting your needs and wants behind the needs of others. 

With a defeated sigh, you peeled yourself from the chair and shuffled over to his room. The men guarding his door muttered amongst themselves, hardly noticing your presence. 

_Some job they were doing..._

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, gathered yourself together and opened the door.

Upon entering, you heard only the indistinguishable dialogue from the television and the monotonous dinging of the IV machine. Naki's once sleek blonde hair was pushed back into a messy, frizzy ponytail. Purple circles sunk beneath his eyelids, and upon looking in your direction, you noted swollen, red blood vessels in his eyes - an obvious indication of bad sleep. 

Without speaking a word, you untangled the tubing to the IV and silenced the machine. 

"That should do it," you said with a small smile. 

Much to your surprise, he returned the favor with a soft chuckle. 

"My apologies for disturbing you over something trivial," he said with a crack of his knuckle. 

For a moment, you blinked rather dumbfounded. 

Was this the same person you dealt with earlier? Where were the tears?

Not that you really minded the change...

"Ah, it's nothing," you laughed. "Most of our day is turning off those damn machines, especially if the IVs are located in either of the ACs." 

"Of course, because of the arms bending," he cracked a few more knuckles.

"Exactly."

Silence fell, as you checked the dressing for his wound. Aside from the buzzing from the television set and the fizzing of the fluorescent lights, you noted the soft popping and an inaudible mumbling under his breath. While you were unable to distinguish his words, he paused in between each few syllables, as if he were...listing something.

Had he always possessed that tic? Perhaps his panic levels rose too high for him to even engage in these little rituals? 

Definitely something worth documenting later. 

"Still clean and dry," you stated, readjusting the sheet over his abdomen. "Your doctor will be by later this afternoon to change the bandages if need be."

His eyes shifted over to white gauze and tape packed into his left upper quadrant. Instead of grimacing in agony and releasing a banshee's wail, as he normally had, he just placed his hand over the sheet and turned away.

Such a strange, melancholy serenity he possessed in this moment. You found yourself almost entranced by his newfound calm, maybe even a little bit...disturbed, quite frankly.

Was this some sign of an emotional disorder? Bipolar, most likely. 

After clearing your throat, you folded your hands and asked,

"Is there anything else I can get for you while I'm in here?" 

As he exhaled, he released a low hum. He gazed over to the hazy window, as if gazing into another world, another dimension. The gears in his mind reeled rapidly, and you found yourself tensing with anticipation. 

"Would you sit with me?"

You blinked, and your mind glitched for a second.

"Wait, what?"

Slowly, he turned his head towards you, eyes as red as deep pools of blood. 

He laughed somewhat sorrowfully. 

"I fall asleep rather quickly," he explained. "Especially on these medications."

"But, are you sure-"

"I promise I won't trouble you with any other superfluous requests," without you even realizing it, he reached out to grip your wrist, far more earnestly than his voice was implying.

Most of the nurses were at lunch break. Your other patients were stable. 

You felt a small twinge at your heart strings the longer you stared into his face.

Whether it was sympathy or guilt, you could not say.

With a small sigh, you dragged the nearest seat, the groaning of the feet scraping against the floor shattering the quiet. 

“That is fine," you replied. "But, I cannot stay too long.”

"I understand."

Taking a seat at his side, you continued to monitor his current state. His eyes darted in your direction before being directed back at the window, as if he was hesitating to maintain eye contact. He would close his eyes for a few moments, then his lids would flicker back open. Again and again, he repeated these motions, occasionally adjusting his body. Then, he would murmur, squeezing his eyes shut, listing off....names? You supposed they were names, because again, they were just quiet enough to be out of range. 

Such peculiar behaviors, most certainly worth noting. 

After playing scientist for a while, you rested your hand against your arm and inquired, 

“What has been keeping you awake? I've noticed your eye vessels are pretty red, so this must have been going on for some time."

He took a moment to brush the tips of his fingers over his knuckles; back and forth methodically. Swallowing a bit, his lips parted for a moment before closing back up again. It seemed as though he needed a moment to collect every piece of his thoughts to articulate them in the most coherent way possible.

And there it was: the slow, steady tear dripping from the corner of his eye, delicately rolling down his temple.

He swallowed hard, the veins in his neck distending like he just swallowed a rock.

Naki's voice cracked ever so slightly as he whispered,

“To be honest with you...my nightmares are filled with the faces of the friends I’ve lost. Whenever I close my eyes,....they’re," he hesitated and bit his lip. "They're all I see.”

With a breath of air, your face almost immediately softened at his words. Guilt crushed your chest for clothing yourself with such a judgmental, hideous attitude.

_PTSD._

_Of course. It was so obvious._

"I can't imagine how hard that must be for you," you said, lowering her head just slightly.

The pillow crinkled as he turned his head to you.

"I say their names at night," he explained. "So I'll never forget them."

"That's admirable dedication...I can ask if the doctor can prescribe something-"

"No."

You cocked an eyebrow. "What?"

His gaze remained fixed on the white ceiling, but a smile graced his lips. 

"I don't mind the pain," he clutched at his chest. "I _need_ the pain...It...propels me forward, you see. I drives me to fight for them, to live for them."

You opened your mouth, but your mind failed to formulate anything sensible or rational. 

"Do you not have a family or friends that do the same for you?"

"Wha-?" your heart jetpacked its way into your throat.

He closed his eyes and folded his hands over his chest. The muscles of his body relaxed, and he seemed to melt deeply into the bed. 

"Don't you have loved ones," he said again. "You would sacrifice anything for? That you would simply weep for if anything happened to them?"

As a nurse, death was an inevitable course for certain patients. Many lived a full, long life, then some were lives cut too short. Either way, death was death, and eventually, to the fainthearted, one could succumb to its power and fall into despair.

Not the nurse.

Despite a death, other sick and dying waited eagerly for the care of a nurse. No time could be wasted with grief and self-pity.

You had grown so calloused over the years that you could care for the most rotted, torn wound and immediately eat lunch right after. You hardened towards the personal struggles and feelings to the patients because becoming too attached only harmed you and brought you further down. You performed almost robotic-like, attempting to get through your day, attempting to administer the proper care plans, medications, exercises, and so on. 

Watching this man, this poor, suffering ghoul, display such raw, human emotion ached your heart, for the first time in almost a year.

How many patients had you judged too quickly before sending them home? How many patients had you reprimanded for displaying normal reactions to such a stressful situation? 

The thoughts and the possibilities made you want to throw up...

When you focused on Naki again, you noticed his chest slowly rising and falling as he occasionally breathed out a name or two...

Even in slumber....

With a small smile, you took one of his hands into your hand, holding it carefully, as you ensured his falling into a pleasant sleep.

"A ghoul more human than a human nurse," you whispered with a chuckle. "Looks like I'm the one that needs the reality check..."


End file.
